It had meant something. At least, she thought it did.
Her chest burned.
Every inch of her body felt like it was caught between anger and heartbreak.
The more she thought about Magnus, the more anger flooded her veins. It wasn’t just betrayal.
It was humiliation.
***
Magnus stepped out of the building without looking back. The glass doors closed behind him with a muted hiss as winter air hit his face.
The streetlights carved sharp shadows across his cold expression as he slid his hands into the pockets of his winter coat and strode toward the waiting car.
He slipped into the back seat without a word. The door closed with a muted thud, sealing him inside. The faint scent of leather and his cologne lingered in the quiet space.
Timothy started the engine. The car eased into the night traffic, city lights sliding past the tinted windows in blurred streaks of gold and white.
City lights blurred past the tinted windows.
Halfway through the drive, Timothy glanced at Magnus through the rearview mirror.
“Mr. Graves,” he said quietly, “the news regarding you and Miss Thompson is trending across all major news channels.”
He paused briefly.
“She released the photographs taken at the hotel that night. Every network and social media platform is circulating them without context. They’re even referring to her as your future wife. Shall I instruct legal to have the coverage removed?”
The faint glow of the streetlights flashed across Magnus’s face. His head was tilted back against the seat, eyes closed, but his jaw flexed hard.
He was exhausted.
He hadn’t gone home since last night.
After scrubbing at his throat in the bathroom until his skin burned, trying to erase the smear of lipstick and the fury clawing beneath it, he had collapsed onto the office couch.
He’d managed barely two hours of sleep before forcing himself upright and working straight through the day.
His eyes burned. His temples throbbed. His body felt heavy, yet restless.
Right before leaving the office, he had seen the headlines. The photographs.
And imagined Sophia seeing them too.
A dark expression passed over his features.
He opened his eyes slowly and looked at Timothy in the mirror.
“No need,” he said.
Flat. Dismissive.
Timothy hesitated. “Sir… you’re playing with fire.”
Magnus didn’t respond.
His expression didn’t change. If anything, it grew colder. He turned his head toward the window, staring at the passing city lights.
